"
She started round and her eyes grew distended, her hand clutched her
breast. "You go hence?" she cried, a note as of fear in her deep voice.
"Hence? Whither?"
"Back to Mondolfo, to tell my mother that her dream is at an end."
She came slowly towards me. "And...and then?" she asked.
"And then? I do not know. What God wills. But the scapulary is not for
me. I am unworthy. I have no call. This I now know. And sooner than be
such a priest as Messer Gambara--of whom there are too many in the Church
to-day--I will find some other way of serving God."
"Since...since when have you thought thus?"
"Since this morning, when I kissed you," I answered fiercely.
She sank into a chair beyond the table and stretched a hand across it to
me, inviting the clasp of mine. "But if this is so, why leave us?"
"Because I am afraid," I answered. "Because...O God! Giuliana, do you not
see?" And I sank my head into my hands.
Steps shuffled along the corridor. I looked up sharply. She set a finger
to her lips. There fell a knock, and old Busio stood before us.
"Madonna," he announced, "my Lord the Cardinal-legate is below and asks for
you."
I started up as if I had been stung. So! At this hour! Then Messer
Fifanti's suspicions did not entirely lack for grounds.
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